Yellowmudblanket

Searing bombastic swamp music that will turn on a dime into the soundtrack of a cellar saloon before morphing into a funeral dirge or the song to which to march on parliament and paint the town red. It’s rock ‘n’ roll dragged over a field of razor wire before being burned on Johnny Cash’s funeral pyre and whose ashes are then snorted off of Tom Waits’ forehead with Keith Richards holding your hear back.